Beyond Limits (Tracers #8)(13)

Chapter Four





Derek slid into the passenger seat and was greeted with a yelp.

“God, you scared me!”

“Look alive, LeBlanc. No sleeping on the job.”

Not that she looked like she’d been sleeping—on the job or anywhere else. She looked exhausted, from her wilted suit and tired eyes to the little tendrils of hair that had slipped from her ponytail and clung to her damp neck.

Actually, the tendrils looked good. Sexy, even. Although it would have been a lot sexier if her skin had been damp from burning up the sheets with him and not from sitting in a rental car in the Arizona heat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, obviously rattled.

“Oh, you know. Passing through town.”

“How’d you get this address?”

“SEALs are a pretty smart bunch, Liz. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

She looked through the windshield at the lush green golf course where Hailey Gardner’s parents kept a condominium. “I thought you were going on leave this week.”

“I am. Headed back to Texas to visit the famdamnly.” He turned the key in the ignition and buzzed his window down. “As luck would have it, Scottsdale’s on the way.”

She shifted in her seat to face him, evidently coming around to the idea that he wasn’t going anywhere. “What is it you want with Hailey?”

“Same thing you want. I think she knows something.” He looked her over again, trying hard not to stare. She’d stashed her suit jacket in the backseat and undone the first few buttons of her shirt in a futile effort to cool off.

She looked amazingly tempting, like she’d stepped right out of one of the dreams he’d been having. During his last tour, he’d had some downtime and he’d spent a good bit of it fantasizing about getting Elizabeth LeBlanc out of those tailored suits.

“Have to say, I’m a little disappointed,” he said. “Thought you’d be happier to see me.”

She ignored that. “Hailey’s in seclusion. All interviews go through the lawyer, and he’s being an ass.”

“There’s a shocker.”

She sighed and looked out at the perfectly manicured golf course.

Derek hadn’t seen green like that in months, so bright it made his eyes hurt. He looked at Elizabeth instead. “If the lawyer’s being an ass, then why are you here?”

“Gordon thought she might open up with me.”

“Because you’re a woman.”

“I don’t know, maybe.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Probably.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“She left home a few hours ago. I’m hoping to catch her when she comes back.”

“Five minutes.”

“What?”

“She went to a yoga class that ended at seven. She should be back in five.” He grabbed the water bottle from the console and twisted the top off. Elizabeth stared at him. “I did some recon earlier,” he said.

“Derek, this is an official interview. I cannot allow you in there with me.”

Cannot allow. He smiled and reached over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I ever tell you I love it when you get bossy?”

“You’re not part of this case.”

He chugged some water and glanced at the side mirror as a white Prius zipped past them. It swung into the driveway, and Hailey Gardner got out. She wore stretchy black pants and a matching top and had her hair pulled up in a ponytail. Dark sunglasses covered her face, probably in case some enterprising reporter managed to find out that her family had a second home in Scottsdale. Derek eyed the cast on her wrist and wondered how she managed the yoga with it. She dug some keys from her purse and disappeared inside the condo.

Derek shoved open the door and turned to Elizabeth. “You coming?”

“You’re not going in there.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Derek, please listen to me. This woman has been through a lot. She’s traumatized, and you’re . . . you. How do you know your presence won’t intimidate her?”

He shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”

She stared at him, and he tried to read her eyes. Ticked off, yes. Worried, yes. She thought his involvement in the raid was going to trigger a negative reaction, but Derek was betting on the opposite.

Elizabeth glanced at the condo, where her best shot at getting a new lead resided.

“You and I both know you’re not leaving here without this interview,” he said. “What would your boss think?”

“It’s not about my boss. This is a high-priority investigation that’s vital to national security. I want to contribute.”

“I know. I also know you’re competitive as hell, and you’ll use every resource at your disposal, including me. So let’s get this done.”

He got out. She sat there stewing for another moment, and then she got out, too, grabbing her jacket from the backseat. He watched her slip into it and put on her agent face.

The evening air was oven-hot, like Afghanistan in July, only instead of smelling like rotting garbage, it smelled like fresh-cut Bermuda grass. The condo was sand-colored adobe with a tile roof and a two-story entranceway.